Fallout: Songs of the South
by Dr3kr
Summary: Fallout: Songs of the South is my first attempt at publishing my written works. It takes place in the Tulsa area of Oklahoma, United States where I live. It follows three characters: Aegus, Adriana, and Raslan (pronounced raz-lahn). I will say that I'm not a good writer but this is a creative outlet for me so if you don't like it don't read it and post nasty reviews!
1. Act I Chapter 1

**Fallout: Songs of the South**

by Dr3kr @fallout.ssfic on Instagram

 **Act I: Brahmin Herders and Career Soldiers**

Chapter 1: A Rifle's Song

2293: Northeastern Oklahoma Wasteland, dubbed The Dust Bowl by locals

The boy's breath came in hushed gasps. He saw his mother fall down, blood slowly pooling around her.

Maybe she was just hurt? He thought. She can't be dead...

His father had told him to hide behind the meat freezer, and the dark haired boy was quick to do as he was told. His father had worn his grim, serious face when telling the boy, Aegus Thomson, to hide. That face was reserved for when he was being disciplined or when the family was in danger, and the paddle hadn't come.

Now Aegus could hear talking in voices he didn't recognize. Then he heard his father's, loud and clear, "I'm givin ya one chance ya filthy mutts, get back and leave this property before I blow ya heads off!"

This was met with laughter, until the sound of a .308 hunting rifle split the night. The laughter died immediately, and soon the rapid pop pop of handmade weapons were heard, occasionally interrupted by the loud rifle the boys father had owned for years. Slowly less and less gunfire sounded, and the boy began to relax, knowing his father would handle this just like all the times before.

The gunfire stopped. Something was wrong. Aegus heard a groan, and then a chuckle. Sounds of a kick being launched at someone lying on the ground could be heard, followed by another groan. The boy heard a knife slip into flesh, and back out. The boy looked to where his father kept his knife to find that it was still resting neatly on the table next to the Brahmin skull. Maybe he grabbed one of the assailant's knives?

Silence.

"Pa?" The boy called out.

Footsteps approached the ramshackle hut, and whoever was inside was knocking things off shelves, looking for something. Aegus called out again, the rummaging stopped, and the man in the house walked towards the freezer. Aegus could see the muzzle of his father's rifle poke around the corner. He poked his head out, and his eyes followed the barrel of the gun up to the hands, bloody hands, of its wielder. He wore old rags stitch together not unlike the boy's clothes, but over the rags were random plates of metal welded and fastened to the cloth like armor. The man's face was concealed by a burlap sack with hoses running from it, with two hold where eyes should be.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" spoke the man. "You'll fetch a nice price at Hogan's. Everyone always wants a kid these days..."

The man laughed and reached for Aegus, while at the same time a loud noise, as if a trumpet was blown fast and sharp, was heard. A red flash lit up the house, and the man lurched forward and fell flat on his face. A scorch mark lay directly between his shoulder blades.

Aegus screamed as more of the trumpets sounded, red light flashed with each note. The boy had seen rad storms and had gotten very sick after one particularly bad one, but those always glowed green and never directly struck with such accuracy. He thought the world was ending.

The other raiders outside fired back with their weapons, the pitiful handmade things could barely be heard over the trumpets. Soon all was quiet once more, and heavy metallic footsteps began searching all around outside the house. A few softer pairs of feet came inside, yet still they walked with the sound of someone wearing heavier armor than homemade metal and cloth armor.

"There's the raider scum you bagged, Deadeye. Wonder what he was doing in the corner," one of the voices inside was saying.

"Let's check it out," replied the voice that must be Deadeye's. The two made their way towards Aegus, and he tried to hide in the shadows as much as possible. An all clear was sounded outside by a voice through a speaker, and headlamps clicked on all about, lighting the house. The lights flashed in Aegus' eyes and he whimpered and shielded himself. Strong but kind hands grabbed him out from between the wall and the freezer, and he was asked his name.

"Cmon kid what's your name? You have got one don't you?" the man with the first voice said.

"Relax, Colson. The kid's scared as hell. Let him calm a bit," said the man who must be Deadeye. He knelt down to level his face with Aegus'.

"My name is Jackson Hart," he began, "but these guys call me Deadeye because I can shoot a bottle cap off of a fence post from a hundred yards. I see your father out there was a good shot too. One bullet, and one raider dead. He didn't miss a shot."

"Is my pa okay?" Aegus asked. Both the older men tightened their lips. The man named Colson walked back outside.

"Look, your parents fought bravely, but there were too many raiders for even your dad to take out. He did a good job protecting you, because his rifle was so loud it alerted us and we came here. I'm sorry we didn't get here fast enough, but we got rid of all the bad men who wanted to harm you," Hart explained to the boy.

"So that means ma is gone too?"

"I'm sorry kid. I know how it feels to lose someone close too."

"Where will I go? Don't make me go to Crazy Sophie's house with all the other orphans!"

"Well I'd say that you're in charge of your own life now. Where do you wanna go?"

"I want to fight like you. I don't want other kids to lose their parents too," Aegus began the sentence firmly, but his voice trailed as he stifled a sob.

"That's a pretty adult thing to say, kid," Hart responded. "Tell me how old are you? What name do they call you?"

"My names Aegus Thomson, and I'm ten years old. The oldest boy this side of Old 51!"

"Well Aegus, I can take you with me and we can see about making you a fighter. How's that sound?"

Aegus smiled and nodded. By now his eyes had adjusted to the glare of the headlamps and he could faintly make out Hart's facial features. Sharp angles and a well groomed beard marked his face, and on the chest plate of his armor was a symbol of wings circled around three gears, with a sword in the middle. The Brotherhood of Steel had come to save him, and Aegus planned on returning the favor.

by Dr3kr @fallout.ssfic on Instagram


	2. Act I Chapter 2

**Fallout: Songs of the South**

by Dr3kr @fallout.ssfic on Instagram

 **Act I: Brahmin Herders and Career Soldiers**

Chapter 2: The Girl of Steel

2293: The Citadel, Capital Wasteland

The girl sat in her chair nervously. The room was entirely empty save the cold uncomfortable chair, and a similar one in front of her behind a desk. A door lay to her left in the middle of the wall, and on her right she knew to be a one way glass window for observation. This was the big moment, everyone was expecting so much from her because of the blood that ran in her veins. Her mother was one of the strongest soldiers and Elders the Brotherhood had ever seen, second only to her father, the current Elder. Due to her parents never marrying officially within the Brotherhood, her mother was willing to step down from the position of Elder and name the father as a Wastelander, thus sparing her father shame and potentially losing his high ranking as well.

The door opened and the girl was shook from her thoughts.

"Are you prepared, Squire?"

"Yes, sir," the girl responded.

"You will now be given the test all Squires must undergo to become an Initiate-Ensign, the highest rank available to those not yet eighteen years of age. Once you turn eighteen, should you succeed, this rank allows you to become a Knight-Sergeant, skipping two whole ranks. I will ask you again, are you prepared?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" the girl's eyes lit up, she was determined to prove to everyone the shadow she had lived under would not dull her passion to become an even better soldier than her parents. She rose and gave the customary Brotherhood salute, right fist over the heart, angled outwards. "My name is Adriana Lyons Maxon, and I agree to give myself fully to the Brotherhood of Steel in the defense of all humanity, in life until death! Ad Victoriam!"

"Ad Victoriam, Squire," the scribe providing her the test returned the salute, "Star Paladin Plemons himself has assigned your test. It is to collect the necessary supplies within this base to construct your own laser rifle. You must do so without speaking or sending messages via the terminals, but by communicating otherwise. You cannot disassemble and rebuild a currently existing rifle, it must be handmade by you with a special receiver boosting the output at a frequency that reduces sound from fired shots. You have two weeks to deliver the rifle to Star Paladin Plemons."

Adriana's heart raced, she was more excited now to begin her work than ever. Didn't the Star Paladin know she had been working on a laser rifle modification to do exactly that? Of course the projected timeline for completion was several months to a year. Maybe that was the test, to see how she would react to plans having to be pushed forward and preparing her for combat plans to be changed. She thought back to what she had heard about her parents, how when she was barely old enough to walk her mother, Elder Sarah Lyons, was killed in battle, and her father had risen to take claim over her. At the time he was only a Sentinel, but within the next few years he would become Elder, as was his destiny by heritage. Arthur Maxon claimed himself as the father of the girl, potentially damaging his career and preventing him from ranking up due to the illegitimacy of his relations with Sarah Lyons. However the acting Elder saw thus as noble, but refused to let Arthur raise her personally, as it would distract from his duties, and so Adriana hadn't known who her father was until she was eight, when her guardian had accidentally said she was "soiling the Maxon name" when she had snuck some Dandy Boy Apples into her quarters.

"Dismissed, Squire. Get some rest and begin your test in the morning," the scribe left Adriana with her thoughts alone in the room, and behind the glass wall Star Paladin Plemons watched with respect and high hopes for the girl.

He had grown up with her father, in fact was only in the Brotherhood because of Maxon's insistence that his intellect was valuable in the planning of battlefields. As a kid Plemons and Maxon would meet outside the Citadel, Maxon having to sneak out, and they would rebuild old Mr. Handy robots they found in the abandoned buildings and send them to chase molerats. One day a Super Mutant had cornered the two kids, and Sarah Lyons and her squad had actually been the ones to save the two young boys. Since then Maxon had an attraction to Lyons despite the age gap, and her father, the Elder at the time, had refused Arthur dinner until he had said why he snuck off with a Wastelander, and Arthur vouched for Plemons' genius in repairing technology and planning courses of action, two very important practices in the Brotherhood of Steel.

"Star Paladin, do you think she will succeed?" one of the senior scribes in the room asked the veteran soldier.

"Of course," he replied. "She's as smart and talented as both her parents combined, she will have no trouble producing this rifle within two weeks' time. Her success will also aid the Brotherhood as a whole, allowing more stealth in our operations with the quieter rifle."

Adriana had made her way to her quarters, and was already researching how to manipulate laser output frequencies before the Star Paladin had left the observation room.


	3. Act I Chapter 3

**Fallout: Songs of the South**

by Dr3kr @fallout.ssfic on Instagram

 **Act I: Brahmin Herders and Career Soldiers**

Chapter 3: Hunger Pains

2293: Uniontown, a larger settlement in The Dust Bowl

Raslan Crux, seemingly a defenseless street urchin, wandered aimlessly down part of Uniontown called the Rose District. It was a miracle he hadn't been beaten or pushed into the trash filled alleys yet, as only the wealthiest residents of Uniontown lived here. He kept watch out of the corner of his eyes, and made his way to an alley when he caught two rough looking men following him and watching his every move. These were Hogan's men, after him once again to sell into the lucrative child slave business. Happy Hogan he's called, and who can blame him? Anyone would be happy making that many caps off of other people's suffering. Hogan would hire raider gangs to pillage farms north of Old 51 and bring their kids and women down to Uniontown to sell for a profit to rapists and pedophiles. The whole practice was generally frowned upon in the settlement yet no one ever did anything to put an end to it because of Hogan's influence. He kept the local militia fat and wealthy too, along with most of the trader caravans. The mayor was previously a secretary to Hogan, if that gives away the power rankings within the town.

The men began subtly herding Raslan towards Hogan's hotel which he used as a home and storefront. Raslan knew once the bright lights of the hotel's windows were in sight more of Hogan's goons would appear and while he was overly confident he could take on two grown men, Raslan knew that any more would be a challenge, if not impossible.

So Raslan simply began to veer toward The Rail. Despite this being Union territory, the Brotherhood of Steel maintained a heavy presence along the train tracks that led from Uniontown to their northern territories, and the Brotherhood soldiers held no love for the child slavery business. They were powerless to stop it however, as the Union held far more advantages if the dispute came to blows.

A sharp whistle echoed from behind Raslan, and it was met by another up the road. The signal meant that there was at least one more of Hogan's men waiting in ambush up ahead. The whistle was met by two more on either side of the street.

Crap, he thought, I could maybe take on two, but five? No way in hell! I gotta lose these idiots somehow.

He saw his opening just as the five men closed around him. One pulled out a suppressed pistol, and aimed. When the shot fired, Raslan ducked into a nearby sewage drain. It was full of grimy water and garbage, but in it he could hide and move off to other drains across the town and escape.

"Oi where'd th' lil rat go! I'll strangle 'im meself!" one of the original two pursuers exclaimed. He was a brute of a man, over six feet tall with large muscles everywhere, barely contained by his sleeveless shirt and combat pants.

"Ah shut up ya hairy one-headed Brahmin," said the other, a more educated man who once ran a smaller slave business of his own until Hogan offered him his life in exchange for joining his assets with superior businessman. He was tall and thin, and kept his hair neatly combed. "The kid gave us the slip again and it won't be the last time he does. I swear I don't get why Boss won't leave him alone."

"I wouldn't say negative things about Hogan that way if I were you."

"Who said that, eh? Tha' voice ain't one o' ours," said the brute. His name was lost when his mother died, but most called him Big Ben.

A man wearing all black stepped from the shadows. His wide brimmed hat sat low over his eyes, but there was no mistaking his goatee. This was Hogan's main assassin. He was sent to kill Hogan's enemies and watch the businessman's friends. Some say that after a few years he refused to accept payment, and continued killing for fun.

"Why hello there Axel. Has Hogan sent you to spy on us, or better yet, to kill one of us?" the tall man, Erik by name, greeted the assassin.

Axel took a step forward, and the other five men took a step back. He stopped and chuckled. "I guess a little bit of both," he said with a grin. Faster than any of the five could react Axel pulled a knife from his boot and with expert accuracy lodged it into the underside of Erik's chin. The dying man gurgled blood, attempting to curse the assassin, then fell to the ground to bleed out slowly. The other men did nothing to help their fallen leader.

"Hogan wanted that kid as his personal trophy, and your man Erik here took too long to catch him," he began, "and now Hogan has become bored with it all. He now wants the street rat killed for wasting his time and resources. Have at it boys."

With that the assassin seemed to melt back into the shadows, leaving the four remaining men staring at each other, with the only sound being Erik's choking breaths and the sounds of pleasure coming from the more populated areas of the Rose District.

Raslan watched the whole thing from the sewer drain. He was glad the crafty Erik was dead, that one was always tracking him down and predicting his moves. The other four were too dumb to find Raslan now, but the fact that the assassin was now on the hunt did not sit easy with him. The boy took the fastest route to the The Rail, hoping to catch the next cart to Brotherhood occupied territory.


End file.
